Thy Kingdom Come

Luke 11:1-13

Beaumont Presbyterian Church

July 25, 2010

Rev. Susan Warren

There must have been something compelling about being near Jesus when he prayed. That’s the only explanation I can come up with for why the disciples would ask Jesus to teach them to pray. After all, as devout First Century Jews the disciples would have known the standard prayers that were repeated every morning and every evening.

Their question tells us something else. It tells us that they could not hear what Jesus was saying when he prayed. We learn from this and other passages that Jesus went off by himself to pray. In fact, we know that Jesus frequently left the crowds and his disciples to be alone with God, sometimes for long periods of time. The text in Luke tells us that this conversation occurred after Jesus had been praying in a certain place – apparently observed, or at least known about – by the disciples.

And that raises another question. The prayer contained in our reading today – the prayer that Luke heard about Jesus teaching his disciples, takes less than 30 seconds to repeat. How does that jibe with the long periods of time Jesus spent in prayer?

Before we talk about the content of the prayer it’s important to hear Jesus’ invocation to prayer. “Father,” he said. I’m aware that father imagery for God is problematic for some and I assume that feminine imagery might be equally problematic for others. Let’s try to put those concerns aside for a moment. What’s important here is how Jesus calls out for God when he is about to pray. It’s a way that’s lost in our translations. The Greek uses what’s called the vocative voice. The vocative voice is used in exclamations, like a cry.

In English we use the nominative voice, which gives us a simple statement, “Father.” But Jesus’ voice carries a plea, “Pater!” When he begins the Lord’s Prayer Jesus is crying out to God to hear him.

And so we begin possibly the most familiar passages in all of Christianity. Versions of what we know as the Lord’s Prayer are found only in Matthew and Luke – the passages in Matthew being the more widely used of the two.

“Your kingdom come.” “Our daily bread.” “Lead us not into temptation.” Words that we can rattle off without even thinking about them. And that may be our greatest temptation -- to rattle off the words without thinking about them, to lose our awe at what we’re asking. We don’t think of ourselves as crying out to God to hear us, do we?

“Your kingdom come.” Most of us still say “thy” because that’s how we learned it as children. Surely it’s the most important line of the prayer. We’re asking God to lead us in the way of God’s kingdom. And what is God’s kingdom? The Lukan Jesus says it is loving God with all of your heart and soul and mind, and your neighbor as yourself. That pretty much covers it, doesn’t it? The forgiveness of ourselves and others, the absence of trial and temptation, the availability of enough sustenance for all – those are givens in the kingdom of God.

How often have you wondered if you are praying correctly? How often have you wondered if your prayers are pleasing to God, or if God is listening? Have you ever prayed and then later thought – maybe I should rephrase that. Or, is what I want to say really important enough? Perhaps you’ve finished your prayer and think of something you forgot to mention. I wonder if that’s what the disciples are thinking when they ask Jesus how to pray. I wonder if they notice that they don’t emerge from prayer with the same peace and strength and faith that embodies Jesus. Maybe that’s what is behind their question, maybe that’s why they think Jesus has a better way to pray.

Interesting, isn’t it, that Jesus offers such a short answer about how to pray. He focuses the discussion instead on the nature of the One to whom we pray. And what is that One like? Well, not like the shameless neighbor who grumbles about getting out of bed to provide his friend with some bread.

Jesus’ parable of the shameless neighbor puts us in the midst of village life in Galilee where the unexpected arrival of a guest in the middle of the night causes a problem. Today we have no trouble identifying that situation as a problem. If one of your neighbors wakes you up – after you have finally gotten the children to sleep and the dog to quit barking and you’ve just dozed off after a long, tiring day – you probably would be annoyed, especially if the neighbor wants to check out your kitchen because he had a surprise visitor. “Go to Arby’s,” you might shout. “It’s open all night.”

But for first century Jews, hospitality was everything. Arby’s wasn’t an option – nor was the nearby Kroger or Quick Stop. Women baked in communal ovens in the village square. So neighbors probably knew who had some bread on hand. A guest had to be offered food first thing, and the guest had to eat, hungry or not. It was a matter of honor. As Jesus tells the story, it was only out of honor that the neighbor finally got up and provided some food. It wasn’t out of a sense of good will. But a friend couldn’t shame himself by turning a neighbor away in the middle of the night – a neighbor who then also would be shamed because he couldn’t provide hospitality for a guest. Such a thing would be unimaginable in a Galilean village.” It was all a matter of protocol.

But, says Jesus, that’s not how God is! That’s what makes this a parable, this reversal. God offers loving, extravagant hospitality to all who come – not because God is obligated like the neighbor in the parable, but because God loves and welcomes us – anytime – day or night.

“Ask, and it will be given to you; search and you will find; knock and the door will be opened for you.” Possibly the most misunderstood words in scripture.

Some read these words and decide that they simply are not true. I asked for a cure, but I am still sick. I searched for a loving partner, but I’m alone. I have knocked and knocked and knocked, but the door is not open. Parents understand when Jesus talks about them giving good gifts to their children. Yet they wonder, where are the good gifts from God?

If you who are evil can give good gifts to your children – think how much more God will give you in the form of the Holy Spirit. Aha! The Holy Spirit. That’s what we’re supposed to be asking, searching and knocking to find. But . . . I wanted a bigger house, or a new car or a nice vacation. I wanted my children to be safe. I wanted my Dad to have a pain-free death.

But here I am with the Holy Spirit, and what am I supposed to do with that? Our question begins to sound like the one the disciples asked – Lord, teach us to understand. Help us to learn who you truly are. Give us the prayer that will lead us to where you go. Teach us to hear your voice above the noise of the world. Help us hear the voice that calls us to love you with all our hearts, souls and minds. Teach us to truly love ourselves and our neighbors. Teach us to walk in love. Teach us to fling open the doors of our hearts and our church. Teach us to tear down the wall of fear that separates us from each other, and from you. Teach us to be points of light in a world grown weary with suspicion and cynicism and doubt. Teach us your kingdom, dear God, on earth as it is in heaven.

Ask, and it will be given; search and you will find; knock and the door will be opened. Friends, believe these words. They are true. God is what we need. God is our prayer. God hears our knock, and the yearning of our hearts and God answers. God finds us. God responds abundantly with the blessing of the Holy Spirit to guide us and comfort us, to hold us and love us, to save us from the time of trial, to deliver us. Ask, search, knock – hear this invitation to join in the creation of God’s kingdom on earth, we pray in Jesus’ name, Amen.